


Exit Wounds

by nightofdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s09e09, Gen, Heaven, I Don't Know Anymore, Sad, always happy to bleed for the winchesters, holy terror, lets talk about kevin, more like holy fuck, tears many tears, the feels gods compelled me to right this, the title is necessary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:49:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightofdean/pseuds/nightofdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin’s Heaven isn't a yawning tunnel, a yellow brick road, or even a two lane highway. Kevin Tran’s Heaven is much more simple and close to home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exit Wounds

It’s the crackling of the radio that wakes Kevin up, but as he stretches the kinks in his back popping Kevin realizes it could have been the crick in his neck protesting the cruel torture he was putting through when he fell asleep in the back of the van.

It always soothed him to sleep in his mom’s van despite the consequences afterwards. It was comforting and now even more so. With this strange tablet and being a prophet, he felt like he could sleep forever. The course fabric of the seat scratching his cheek, his whole body laid across the back seat, so vulnerable, yet so safe.

He almost felt invincible when encased within the old vehicle. He practically grew up in this car, riding to recitals, soccer games, karate lessons, and then helping him steal the angel tablet. His whole life was centered around this one car.

A chuckle bubbled through Kevin’s chest, escaping his lips. It was just like the Winchesters, the Impala was their life.

Kevin smiled faintly. He really owed the Winchesters a lot; they’d saved his ass a lot since he became a prophet. And he’d supposed the saved them a few times too.

Sliding his fingers across the coarse fabric of the car seat Kevin felt something move through him, a sensation that he didn’t dislike nor live without. It was just that it felt empty, like something was missing, something essential.

It weighed on him like heavily, tugging at his mind relentlessly, like an itch he just couldn’t scratch. It was really distracting and he had to figure out what was missing, something was wrong with this picture. He felt like he knew, like he _should_ know.

It was getting to hot in the car and he was starting to get a migraine.

Sliding open the car door Kevin breathed in the fresh air outside. It invigorated Kevin, breathing in the crisp Michigan atmosphere, as if it wouldn’t last, closing his eyes briefly falling into the sensation, the familiarity. He knew this place, it was the Upper Peninsula, and you can’t get much further north than this without crossing the border.

The UP was a beautiful place, no cars allowed, only bikes and horses. Kevin and his mom came here every year on his spring break. He absolutely loved it, the perfect reprieve from work and studies. The air and openness allowed him space to think.

He’d forgotten how much he missed this place, but the angel tablet happened and the angels falling. It was always the little things that you end up taking for granted.

The field he was in was gorgeous, the start of the forest just off to the side, untidy grass beneath his sneakers. But what was he doing here anyway? Wasn’t he just – what _was_ he doing?

What _washedoing?Howdidhegethere?_

Oh god. Where the hell was he? Is this one of Crowley’s illusions? He needed to leave get back – get back…to where. To home, no he didn’t have one those anymore. Sam, Dean, he needed to find them.

“Kevin.”

Kevin twists around so fast he nearly slips on the dew-slick grass, eyes darting back and forth frantically searching, who – who was here.

“Kevin, it’s me.”

That voice, but Crowley.

Slowly, because he couldn’t believe it, he turned around. And saw his mother.

She was alive, here, right now, in flesh and blood, alive and bright, oh god. How? No, it didn’t matter his mom was alive, she was safe.

“Mom your – how?” the words scraped through his dry throat painfully; his voice hardly made a sound yet his mother still seemed to hear, like always.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” she responded, voice laden with remorse, face pulled down into a sorrowful smile. Why was she so sad? They were both back home, alive even.

_Alive._

And then it hit him, images and pain, his insides burning out. Sam, Sam, oh god.

“Mom, mom, I…I –,” but before he could get another word out, warmth enveloped him. Instantly he relaxed into his mother’s embrace. Letting himself relax, and inhale his mother’s scent, the smell of home.

“I know, I know,” he felt the rumbling of his mom’s chest against his cheek, the fabric of her shirt lightly scrubbing his face. He couldn’t be more at peace than at this moment.

Kevin Tran smiled in Heaven.

 

 

 


End file.
